UnwishfulDreaming
by Quite Silent
Summary: rated for some language. Ever since Clarice's time interviewing the Good Dr. she has been haunted.( my first fanfic. the second chapter is here!)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Mr. Harris's Characters. I am simply borrowing them for some time.

A chilled wind blew a soft golden leaf from one of the old maple trees surrounding the park in which a young brown/red haired woman stood in a black pea coat and tan trousers. In the middle of the park stood newly graduated, Special Agent Clarice Starling. Her icy blue eyes surveying the surrounding trees in search of someone she new was never there especially at this moment in time. _I know I saw him come this way, it had to be him!_ Her mind yelled at her. Clarice looked around worried she had said it out loud. No one was staring at her oddly that made it a "no." _Then again Starling, there's no one around to stare. _She thought to herself. Ever since Lecter's escape from Memphis she had been paranoid, looking around corners, peering into hallways more than twice; convinced he would be waiting for her. She could see him everywhere. In the Starbucks, across the street from her duplex she shared with her best friend Ardelia Mapp, in the car behind hers at a stop light. She couldn't shake him since the brief touch they had given each other. She wanted to forget him but didn't succeed. Now she made her way hopelessly out of the park "Man Starling you need to get a grip." She said returning to her rental car parked across the street. _And it makes everything better with me being here in __France__, I'm not even in __Paris__. God I have to plan better vacations. _The sarcastic little voice shot at her from inside herself.

Hannibal Lecter watched as Clarice left the park and get into her car. He slowly emerged from behind a statue of a man and a young boy. The man was very large and was holding the young boys arm as the boy seemed to squirm away. After his brief chat with Clarice over the phone in Mexico he had found her address and license plate number. It was brilliant how much you find out about a person just by observing them. He had learned this when he was a psychiatrist. The good Dr. followed her down the street by way of carriage. He needed to remain, or would like to remain unnoticed by his little Starling, however if he were to ride in a Taxi his sharp senses would be brutally assaulted by smells of cheap perfume, the sound of very bad French pop music, the sight of dried up bodily fluids (that were not blood) on the seats, and the deep breaths of poorly made cigar smoke from the driver. As he had learned the day he arrived. He had waited, checking into the same hotel as Clarice, for her for several days after learning about her little vacation. He watched as her car stopped at there hotel the "_Hotel Extraordinaire" _He stopped a blockfrom Clarice's parking spot and heavily tipped the driver. The air was filled with the smell of fine and cheap wines and freshly baked breads. Hannibal took a deep breath in and took in his to familiar surroundings. He knew exactly where everything was, and what was going on. It was the same just as it had been every night since he had arrived.

            Clarice stepped out of her car to be greeted by a great chill in the air as it was becoming night time. Her breath was now visible in the air and she wrapped herself further into her pea coat and headed towards the door to the Hotel. The lobby was warm and filled with drunken party goers. Clarice had second thoughts about going through the crowd after one of the younger men began to look at her in a way she did not like. She turned to face the door and was caught with a gasp of surprise. Standing in the door way was Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He was in a full length black trench coat and had black gloves on. His shirt was a smooth dark grey, barely standing out against the black of his trousers and coat. She was sure it was him. She reached slowly for the .45 in her hip holster. She blinked once and he was gone. "What the hell's wrong with you Starling?" she said removing her hand from the holster. She waited for an elevator for about ten minutes before she decided to just take the stairwell. Her thoughts stayed the whole time and Dr. Lecter. _He's gunna be right around the corner when I turn to get to the next flight of stairs. He's here. HES GOING TO KILL ME. _Finally her mind got the best of her and she turned a corner to come face to face with a bus boy and screamed at the top of her lungs then almost fell down the flight of stairs.

            Lecter had known she had seen him at the entrance to the hotel but he noticed quick enough to move out of her view as to not be seen again. Now he followed her up the stairwell to her floor. After a few levels he could see her tense up. He was getting to her. He smiled slightly at the thought. A moment later she ran straight into a bus boy turning the corner and just about fell down a flight of stairs. Lecter fought the urge to lunge forward and catch her. The bus boy caught her and kindly apologized. Hannibal followed slowly behind until they finally reached the sixth floor. She opened the door slowly and was immediately in a long hallway. Lecter had memorized the whole hotel. He knew exactly where she was if he had timed her walk correctly. Her room number was 206 and was a very trashy suite. _It's a shame you couldn't have afforded better Clarice_. He thought to himself as he waited at the top of the stairs, listening for her door to open and close.

            Clarice opened the door to her room hesitantly looking behind her. She was tired from a day of worrying and immediately shut the door and collapsed on to the bed. She removed her coat, shoes, holster and hat. Then lay down on the big comforter. She fell asleep an hour later after raiding the tiny bright pink refrigerator in the corner. All she found was an orange. She ate it and fell asleep instantly afterwards. Early the next morning she awoke to a pair of maroon eyes staring into her own, newly open eyes. "Holy shit!" she jumped out of bed and reached for her holster on the bedside table. It wasn't there. The intense maroon eyes didn't flinch as she panicked, trying to figure out a way to escape. "Now Clarice, Is that anyway to greet a guest?" he asked a quick Cheshire smile forming upon his thin lips, revealing his small white teeth. He watched her as she blinked wildly in shock. He stood from his chair to emphasize her awareness and fear. As he walked towards her she slowly backed away meeting up to a wall. He lunged for her and she dodged quickly only to be tripped and tackled. She felt like she was being crushed under his weight.

            He had noticed she was thinner than usual the day she arrived. He was now forcing all of his weight on to her trying to get her not to squirm. He knew Clarice could probably hold up a great fight, but there was something wrong in this situation. She wasn't as strong as he believed her to be. She was fine after he had first watched her out side of the "dungeon." She had been strong enough to fight against a man slightly smaller than himself. He had stopped watching her for about a month and something had changed. _Was she sick? What was wrong?_ She stopped squirming and was very still for a few moments. Suddenly she jerked and knocked him to the side and stood up. She had caught him off guard to her advantage, at least for the moment. She bolted towards the door but only made it out half way before she felt a slight stinging sensation in her left wrist. Then a strong hand pulling her shoulder back into the room. She looked down to see her own blood dripping on to the floor before another strong hand clasped itself around her bleeding wrist. She looked up to see a widely smiling Dr. Lecter then it all seemed to fizzle away.

Clarice bolted straight up in her bed, breathing heavy and covered in sweat. "What a fucking messed up dream!" she yelled into the night air. She turned, letting her feet fall from the side of the bed to the ground. She shrugged off the last of the dream and stood. Her room was dark and full of lifeless shadows that seemed to breathe in every bit of hallucination. Clarice walked to the blue and brown tilled bathroom on her side of the duplex. She hadn't even thought of the yell waking Ardelia. Starling turned the faucet to hot and began to wash her hands in it. _I hope I didn't wake Ardelia up._ She wasn't concentrating on her hands which were now covered in blood. She looked down to wet her face in the warm water only to find the water was a pinkish color and she had a large, blood stained bandage around her left wrist. "No damned way." She wiped her hands on a towel and began to slowly remove the bandage. Across her left wrist was the same exact cut she had from the dream… "But I'm at home, not in France and Dr, Lecter isn't even in America any"

"And where did you hear that story from Special Agent Starling?" She was cut off by a raspy, metallic voice, the ING in her last name was held out. "You'r famous Tattler, I presume."

Clarice spun away from the mirror instinctively grabbing for her gun that was not there at her side. She reached behind her for a sharpened nail file. An obvious move to Lecter, who intern pulled out his harpy and swung it towards her, she ducked and moved past him quickly retrieving her gun from the bedside table and pointing it straight at the back of his head. She fired two shots straight into his scull; the sound rang off of the walls. Automatically her thoughts turned to Ardelia. _Ardelia__, oh shit, he could have killed her before I woke up. _She turned to make sure Lecter was dead, but the face that looked back coldly at her was the face of her supervisor Jack Crawford. 'Oh god, oh god." She began to panic as she ran into the other side of the duplex and pounded through the door to get to Ardelia. As the door swung open it revealed a scene of a bloody faced Dr. Lecter leaning over Ardelia. Hannibal looked straight at Starling and she realized it wasn't his blood. In his hand he held Ardelia's heart. It looked as though it was still beating. "You see Clarice; a heart can beat for several minutes after it's been removed from a body, you just need to know how to do it properly. Shall I show you?" he threw the harpy that was lying by Ardelia's dead hand. Starling just barely shut the door in time. She knelt by the door and began to think of a plan.

            Clarice woke to Ardelia popping her gum loudly right by Clarice's ear. "Ardelia!" Clarice sprang up and hugged her friend oddly. "You're not dead." Clarice said a strange look on her face. "Hell yeah I'm not dead." She said looking at Clarice just as strangely. "What the hell were you dreaming of?" she asked as they walked out of Clarice's cubical. Clarice explained it to her friend as they walked down three flights of stairs and into the parking lot. "So do you have a date or something tonight? Or do you need a ride home?" Clarice asked hoping she didn't have a date. Clarice didn't feel too safe about going home alone. However Starling could tell there was going to be a date by the way Ardelia was dressed. "Yep, and he's a sexy one to." They both laughed. Ardelia walked Starling to her car, then after waving goodbye went back into the building.                

            Clarice walked into her side of the duplex about an hour later. "Damn traffic" she said laying her coat down on the couch before making her way to her bedroom. It reminded her of the dream. She looked down at both wrists and neither was cut. _Just to make sure_ she thought as she walked into the bathroom to make sure the sink wasn't bloody. She let out a sigh of relief as she walked out of the bathroom, through her bedroom and into the kitchen. She poured herself a small glass of wine and sat at the kitchen table thinking intensely about the dream. She stood and stretched, looking around the kitchen. Something unusual caught her eye. The sliding glass door to the backyard was open. "What the hell…" her voice broke off as she walked towards the door. Taped to it was a crisp white envelope. She opened it and began to read.

_Dear Clarice, _

_            You have yet to tell me if the Lambs have stopped screaming. I would like an answer. I'm sorry I can no longer keep my promise to never call on you Clarice, but it is fun playing with your mind, little Starling.  _

_                                                     HL MD_

Clarice felt a warm breath on her neck; she turned around to maroon eyes and something hard meeting up with her skull. She fell to the ground with out a noise. "Good night, Clarice."


	2. Wax Paintings

The air smelled intensely of candle smoke and oddly assorted wax scents. Yet there was not a single candle in sight, and no smoke in the air around her, that she could see anyway. The room was a light crème color and looked far too big to be a bedroom or a simple living room. The walls were high and covered in beautiful paintings. One painting stood out in particularly. On a rough piece of wood was painted a little girl holding a scrawny, bloody deer next to what looked to be a young Hannibal Lecter. In Hannibal's left hand he held a few small milk white teeth, each had a single drop of blood resting either on them or in his hand.

In the middle of the giant room lay a newly awakened Clarice Starling. She was wrapped in a soft, blood red quilt, which had a few white stripes going through the center.

                                 From a corner of the room she hadn't noticed Hannibal Lecter watched Clarice as she stood and walked around the front of the room slowly looking at every picture, stopping for a moment at each. He could tell she was quiet interested in the painting of his sister Mischa and himself. Clarice's red/brown hair was matted against the back of her head, stuck to it with a small amount of blood. When she had fallen to the ground after he hit her, her head must have scraped against something, which was also the cause of the cut on her left shoulder blade. She wrapped the quilt around herself further as she walked. _She must be cold…_ he though to himself as he walked out of the room.

                                 Clarice turned at the sound of footsteps leaving the room. The only thing she could see of the person was a black shoe and half of a black paint leg. Suddenly her surroundings and situation came back to her. She was in a strangle building, which was located in who knows where and she assumed she was here because of a psychopath with some taste. Clarice also didn't have her gun. She listened to the footsteps go on then a door shut and lock. "Damn" she whispered to herself. Starling followed the path she thought the person might have taken to get out. She couldn't find any doors. All of the walls looked exactly the same, except for the paintings on them. The smell in the air began to fade away as she walked further into the shadow filled hallways. It also began to get colder as she looked for the door. _What the hell is this? _Her mind questioned. She couldn't come up with an answer. She had never seen anything so odd.

                                 Hannibal had heard her start to follow him. "You're going to get lost Clarice…" he said to himself with a coy smile. He was the only one who knew where the door was and how to get through the maze. Even if she found the door she wouldn't know it. It was made to blend in perfectly with the wall. He stood just beyond the door listening to her footsteps. They were very quiet even when she was right next to the door. Hannibal walked to the air vents that lead to the maze. He then put a few drops of knockout fluid into the vent. He returned waited until he was certain she was far enough into the maze until he opened the door again. With him he carried a syringe and a surgical mask. The cold air that was rushing in to the back of the maze from the back air vents was filled with evaporated knockout drops. He hoped that when he found her she would already be unconscious, but if needed he had the syringe. Lecter knew that if he approached her with the idea of showering in his home, let alone being in his home at all her reaction could be costly on her part. He didn't want to see her hurt, but he would cause her harm himself if he had to.

                                 He found her lying against a wall in the maze. She was still awake and jumped as he turned the corner. "Get the fuck away from me Lecter!" She yelled as she stood up, letting the quilt drop to the maple, hard wood floor. She was quivering with the cold, but he could tell it was more than that; she was afraid. "Clarice, I don't appreciate the use of prophanity unless it is truly needed. You aught to know that by now." He said calmly. He looked her over slowly. In her right, trembling hand she held a Swiss pocket knife. "What the Hell! This isn't a needed time to use it? You kidnapped me, and I was unconscious for how long? Who knows what the fuck you did to me?!" she screamed at him, her voice thick with her south Virginia accent. "Clarice, I am appalled you would think I would do something that ungentlemanly."  He slowly took a step towards her and she held up the pocket knife in front if her face.  

                                 Clarice knew she wouldn't win in the situation. She could smell something odd in the air (also Dr. Lecter had a mask on so there was something he obviously didn't want to breathe in) and she was armed with only a pocket knife. He could tackle her and she would go out in a second. "Shit." She said aloud.

                                  He knew she had just registered what was going on and knew she would have to cooperate or get hurt. She didn't drop her knife and he assumed she was going for the get hurt option. He lunged at her with all of his force. She tried to swerve out of the way but was pinned against the wall face first. Her right arm was being held against her back and her left was still at her side. She felt the knife being pulled form her grip as she began to cough. Clarice then felt something sharp touch the inside of her arm. With all of her strength she pushed herself and Lecter from the wall and knocked him onto his haunches. Dr. Lecter stared at her, his eyes filled with anger. She ran through an opening and into a long hallway of the maze.

                                 Lecter didn't bother to follow her in her situation. She would be unconscious in a few moments anyway. When she had jerked away from the wall she had made the needle of the syringe go far into her vein. In his anger he walked back to the door of the maze and left Clarice to herself. _Rube, trailer trash... _the insults flew through his mind. He hadn't wanted to hurt her but she was never going to give up. When she had walked off into the next hall he noticed her left shoulder blade begin to bleed again.

                                 Clarice slowly pulled the hot syringe out of her arm and stared at it. "Son of a bit" her voice trailed off as she slipped into a forced dream. Hannibal came in half an hour later to find Clarice asleep, standing up. In her hand she held the syringe. He picked her up; sure she wasn't going to wake. He carried her through the maze and to the door leading into the rest of his home. The room they entered was filled with grey stalactites, protruding from the roof of the underground cave Hannibal had made into a home. "You are beautiful when you sleep Clarice."


End file.
